


Catch the Spark

by Semperfidani



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, And a home run!, Baseball euphemisms, Based on the song Catch by Brett Young, Ben & Rey go to first base, Ben is distracted by Rey, Ben is lonely, Birthday Gift for Kirsten!, Consentual Sex, F/M, Finn the matchmaker, Hotdog Vendor!Rey, Modern Era, Pitcher/Closer!Ben, Redemption, Rey is lonely too, Reylo - Freeform, Reylo Baseball AU, Starting Over, The birthday girl makes an appearance & ships them!, and second, and third, leaving the past behind, running the bases, smut with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 12:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21446263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semperfidani/pseuds/Semperfidani
Summary: A baseball AU where Ben is trying to salvage his career, but keeps getting distracted by a beautiful hot dog vendor.When "running the bases" takes on a whole new meaning, and sports euphemisms abound.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 12
Kudos: 83





	Catch the Spark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaybohls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaybohls/gifts).

> Happy Birthday to my dear friend and fic sister-wife, Kirsten! xoxo.
> 
> (Unbeta'd so mistakes are my own).

> _ I wasn’t trying to feel like this. I wasn’t trying to feel nothing at all. _
> 
> _ I just came to meet my friends. Try to drink a long week off. _
> 
> _ I didn’t want to stay too late. I wasn’t trying to close it down. _
> 
> _ I was doing my own thing. Yeah, up until you sat down.  
_
> 
> _ Now you got me trying to catch your eye. _
> 
> _ Catch your name. _
> 
> _ Catch a spark. _
> 
> _ Start a flame. _
> 
> _ The way you’re smiling, I can’t help myself. _
> 
> _ Girl, you got me trying to catch my breath. _
> 
> [ _ ~ Catch by Brett Young _ ](https://youtu.be/SBqPLI0Oskc)

* * *

Ben sat his tired and achy body on the red leather stool at The Boehling Ale-y, a local craft beer pub near Cheney Stadium in Tacoma, Washington. Kirsten, the bubbly blonde bartender and owner of the pub, placed his usual brew on a Tacoma Rainier's logo coaster, the foam cap levelled off at the top.

  
  
“Trever saw you pulling up, so he’s already got the steak on the grill,” she told him, referring to her husband, a former Air Force servicemen turned pub-owner, brew master, and cook. “It will be a few minutes, darling.”

“How did you he get so lucky to find you before I did?” Ben asked with a smirk, his brown eyes glinting with a golden rim. He ran his long fingers through his hair to shake off the residual imprint of the baseball helmet he wore earlier that evening. His long hair covered his rather large ears — the same ones his opponents teased him with during the game by calling him “Dumbo” — and accented his longish face that was scattered with beauty marks. 

“Darling, a girl could get used to your sweet words,” she replied with a blush, fluttering her golden brown eyes. “I wish you would just talk to hot dog girl already…”

“You know I’m not husband material,” he cut her off, making a face. “I’m damaged goods, and nobody wants my baggage. Besides, hot dog girl is way out of my league.”

“Darling, sometimes the best way to lighten the load is to share suitcases,” Kirsten said before her husband yelled from the back. “I’m coming! Hold your horses,” she yelled back before turning to Ben. “And if she’s humble enough to be a hot dog vendor, and the abuse that surely comes with that, she can probably handle a moody former MLB big-shot.”

Ben ruminated on her words as he drank his beer. _ MLB big-shot indeed! _

A year ago, he was living it large in a Central Park penthouse, at the top of the standings in the major leagues, in the hunt for the Cy Young award and the World Series Championship for a major AL-team. He certainly didn’t hurt for choices with the ladies as busty baseball bunnies fell onto his lap. There was never any solid relationship, as his manager demanded 100% dedication to the team. It was a solitary and lonely existence, and he blew through money, indulging in the perks of the wealthy to compensate.

Then the scandal hit. His team, the First Order Yankees, were disbanded when it was discovered that team owner, Sheev Palpatine, was hit with a laundry list of federal charges of everything from grand larceny, human and drug trafficking, bribery, corruption, and other charges going back to implementation of the team in the expansion-era. The baseball team was created as a front for the mob.

Snoke, the team’s manager from the beginning — when they were known as the Empire Yankees — was also charged and convicted as the mastermind behind the team’s major steroid doping scandal. His own grandfather, Anakin “Darth Vader” Skywalker, was removed from the Baseball Hall of Fame when it was discovered that not only was he a user of said substances, but also a peddler within the organization. 

  
The fall-out was swift and cruel. Few players made it out unscathed, including himself. Although the investigation revealed that he himself never took drugs or participated in any of the more nefarious activities, he was aware that some members might have been doping, and that the source of the drugs may have been internal. For remaining silent and not reporting his suspicions, he was suspended for a full year. No teams were willing to pick him up for their farm teams, wanting to distance themselves from the scandal and the taint he would have brought into their organization. 

Forced to sell his cars and penthouse to pay for the legal bills and fines, he wasn’t left with much more than his hat in his hand and a bucket of _ mea culpa _. He went to the last MLB team he ever wanted to return to — his last resort. 

The call to his mother, Leia, and uncle Luke, both co-owners of the Seattle Resistance, wasn’t easy. He hadn’t spoken to his family in years, after his uncle’s negative scouting report almost derailed his career after a family dinner turned into a full-fledged fight when Ben announced he was dropping out of college to pursue baseball, like his grandfather. Luke, in an act of pettiness, wrote a scathing report. When draft day arrived, every team passed on him except for the First Order, the biggest rivals of the Resistance. Snoke had seen the potential based on his grandfather’s legacy, and encouraged him to leave the past behind to become the marquee face of the team. 

Now, ten years later, here he was, pitching in front of a small crowd of devoted baseball fans in the Pacific Coast League with a triple-A farm team with no hope of advancing back into the majors, playing for a meager salary compared to the millions he was making in the pros, and where he spent half the game looking at the pert ass of a dancing hot dog in the stand. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

Ben jerked slightly at the feminine voice accented with a British lilt. Turning his head slightly to the left, his eyes connected with a beautiful set of expressive hazel eyes, set against a slightly tanned face with a scattering of freckles, slightly plush lips, and short brunette hair that framed her face in a flattering way.

He felt his breath exit his body.

“Hot dog girl?” 

* * *

Ben stood in the bullpen, stretching his arms across his broad chest. The starting pitcher, Poe Dameron, was starting to throw some wild balls, a sure sign of arm fatigue. They led by three in the top of the eighth, and there were players on first and second base. Finn Storm, the catcher, was standing at the pitcher’s mound with Poe and their manager, Lando Calrissian. Ben, the closer for the team, waited patiently for the signal; at the sign of Poe handing his glove to the coach, Ben made his way across the field to his signature song, _ Crazy Train _by Ozzy Osbourne.

> _ “All aboard! Hahahahahahahaaaa!” _

As he strolled across the field, his eyes glanced up towards the stands as people cheered, narrowing in on the beautiful hot dog vendor that has haunted his thoughts all season long. He smiled to himself — albeit more like a smirk than a full-fledged smile — as he watched the girl dance in the stands, the felt hot dog hat bouncing in step with the music as she smiled. She wore what Ben thought were the shortest of denim cut-off shorts, the frayed hems settling at thigh level.

> _ “Crazy! But that’s how it goes. Millions of people. Living as foes.” _

He choked on a bit of spittle as she turned around, her peachy skin of the bottom of her buttocks just sneaking out of her booty shorts. He could barely breathe as she reached up to a guy in the stand to pass a hot dog, the hem of her cropped Tacoma Rainier's jersey riding up just enough to expose her firm abdomen. 

“See something you like, Solo?” Finn grinned as he passed the baseball into Ben’s large palm. Ben ignored him as Finn walked back to the home plate, laughing as he did so.

> _ “Maybe. It’s not too late. To learn how to love, and forget how to hate.” _ _  
  
_

As he waited for Finn to put on his catcher’s mask, his eyes strayed up toward the stands. She was looking straight at him, cheering loudly as her hot dog carry case swayed to the beat of her private dance. For the first time all season, she waved at him and blew him a kiss.  
  
Ben could feel the blood rushing to two heads, and it was everything in his power not to reach up and catch the floating kiss like a dork. He willed his second head to calm down, and broke his gaze after Finn signalled he was ready to catch some warm-up baseballs.

> _ “Mental wounds not healing. Life’s a bitter shame. I’m going off the rails on a crazy train.” _

Ben shook the fog from his head as he focused on the task at hand. There was no way she was interested in him back. _ She was probably just a friendly super-fan cheering him on, and she probably blew kisses to Poe for crying out loud. _

He continued to lob fast balls at Finn, his inner-aggression rising at the thought that he was always going to amount to nothing, and never be worthy of being wanted by anyone. 

“I think we’re ready,” Finn yelled, shaking his hand at the impact of the last pitch. 

With a final glance towards the stands, hot dog girl was nowhere to be seen. 

Once again, Ben stood alone.

* * *

_Is she wearing a bra?_

Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to wonder if hot dog girl was wearing a bra.

It was the bottom of the ninth and the bases were loaded. This was unfamiliar territory for Ben. His career was built on his ability to close the game. 

But he’s never had to contend with the distraction of a pretty girl with a peachy ass cheeks, and legs that went on for days, bending over every time he went to pitch, before. 

Now he’s at risk at blowing the game, and hurting the team’s playoff chances, for a pair of pretty eyes. 

Finn called a time out and ran to the mound. “You okay, buddy?”

“I’m sorry,” Ben replies. “I’m better at this. It’s just…” He paused to remove his helmet so she could run his hands through his hair. “There’s this girl…”

“What girl?” Finn replied eagerly, a grin in his eyes. _ Is it possible that Darth Emo has the hots for someone? _Finn can’t wait to tell the guys, but plays it cool as he fished for information.

“The hot dog girl in the stand. Someone just spilled a beer over her shit, and I don’t think she’s wearing a bra,” Ben uttered in frustration.

Finn subtly glanced towards the stand, acting like he’s pretending to contemplate the next call. His eyes spotted the girl Ben is referring to, and a look of recognition flashed before his eyes. He resumed his resting poker face as a plan formulated in his brain. 

“Okay. So just give me 100% for this last pitch. A fastball should end the game for them. And then I’ll meet you at the Boehling Ale-y for beer after the game. My treat.”

* * *

Hot dog girl broke out into laughter, the sound carrying across the bar, catching the attention of Kirsten, who gave Ben an enthusiastic wink and thumbs up, before she headed their way to take Rey’s order. Hot dog girl ordered a fruity raspberry ale, and waited until she was alone with Ben before introducing herself.

“I’m certainly not hot dog girl,” she flashed Ben a grin. “My name is Rey.”

“Rey…?” Ben replied.

Rey’s smile faltered a bit, as if the query hurt. The flash of pain quickly fluttered away, and she resumed her bright, toothy, grin. Ben felt like he was being attacked by a rainbow, the light of her being stirring something deep inside of him. 

“Just Rey. I guess for the purposes of immigration and employment, I use the generic name given to orphans…,” she paused before finishing. “Johnson. Rey Johnson. But just call me Rey!” She extended her hand for a handshake.

When their hands touched, it felt like a spark of electricity ignited a flame that shot up their arm. They both jumped back a bit, and Rey smiled again, Ben was still a bit awestruck.

“I’m meeting up with someone else,” he blurted out awkwardly. In truth, he’s never made it this far in conversation with a woman before. Before, all he had to do was basically show up, and girls would slip hotel key cards in his pocket. Watching her face fall, he felt equal parts stupid and remorseful.

Rey’s face fell and she rose to leave. “I-I-m sorry. I think I misunderstood. Finn said you wanted my company, My bad.”

She turned to leave, and was halfway out the door when he caught up with her. He reached out to grab her hand, pulling her back until her body was ghost-touching his. 

“Wait! I’m sorry. I screwed things up like I always do. I want you…no...I mean I want to be with you...I mean…,” he stopped and ran his hands through his hair in frustration, as Rey looked at him in confusion. 

He exhaled. 

“What I meant to say is that I want to get to know you more. I mentioned to Finn that I noticed you at the games, and maybe,” he paused to gaze into her suddenly hopeful eyes. “Maybe I want to get to know you better. I didn’t know that Finn knew you, or that he would play matchmaker!”

Rey blushed and looked at him shyly. “I have a confession too. Maybe...hypothetically speaking...Finn might have possibly known that I’ve been crushing on your since the day you arrived. And maybe he might have been the one to suggest I wear more revealing clothes to try to catch your attention.”

He pulled her into the circle of his arms and she instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist. “Well maybe...hypothetically speaking...I am looking to fill that void in my heart. And maybe the only person I can picture there is you.”

“You are not alone,” she replied, with a clear shine of tears in her eyes. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly.

He suddenly turned his head slightly, like a plant seeking light, and his soft lips met hers. 

He reached his hand to pull her head closer, deepening the kiss, their tongues connecting in a dance. She reached up to run her fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer, as if the space between them was two far. Her breasts crushed into his chest. Pressed against him, his member hardened and pressed against her stomach through his jeans. 

“Get a room!” Kirsten said from the bar, and they broke apart suddenly, as if they were only made aware of their surroundings.

Rey broke out into a giggle as she was nestled in his arms, and Ben grinned down at her, their eyes connecting in newfound love. 

“I have somewhere special I want to show you,” he leaned forward, whispering in her ear. 

She eagerly agreed and Ben went to clear up the tab. 

“Just remember,” Kirsten said, as they waited for his transaction to clear, “You are worthy of good things. Let the past go. Your future is here.”

“Thanks darling. You tell that husband of yours just how lucky he is to have you!”

Kirsten blushed. “Get out of here! We’ll get together for a double date soon.”

* * *

They walked down the tunnel of Cheney Stadium toward the field. Ben found the light panel and switched the field lights on.

He grabbed her hand and they walked towards the pitchers mound. She looked around the field, delight etched on her face. “So much green!”

“This is my world. Out here, I feel in control of my destiny. I don’t have to think about the past or the future. I don’t have to think about how quick my family was to turn on me, or how my father was _ persona non grata _in my life after the divorce. I can just be me, in the moment, lonely but in full control of my surroundings.” He looked down as Rey pressed her hand in his, her clear hazel eyes meeting his golden brown ones. “But all I could see this last little while was you.”

“Ben, I know what it’s like to feel alone. I am an orphan, abandoned, and raised in the foster system. I grew up thinking I want worthy of being loved or wanted. Up there in the stands,” she paused to point towards the stands, “I feel like I’m part of a community. Like I’m part of something bigger than myself.”

They stood for a while, musing on their own thoughts as she looked at the view from the mound, his arms around her shoulders, and hers around his waist. 

Rey suddenly turned to him, a look of mischief on her face, her nose wrinkled in mirth. “Do you want to play my version of catch?”

“Dare I ask what your version of catch is?” He drawled. 

“Let’s just say that I have this little fantasy that I’ve been entertaining in my head all season watching you. It’s a game that I call “Round the Bases.” I start at first base, and you throw the ball to me. If I catch the ball, we do the sexual euphemism of that base.” She ended with a wink.

Ben’s jaw dropped before he swiftly recovered himself. “Mmmm. I think I like this game. But what happens if you don’t catch the ball?”

She stood on her tiptoes, pressing her body into his groin, and whispered in his ear, “we do it anyways. Nobody loses at this game.” 

Before he could grab her in his embrace, she ran off to the bullpen to grab a baseball, a trail of teasing laughter in her wake. 

* * *

“Let’s see what you’ve got, big boy,” Rey taunted him from first base.

“I’ll go easy on you for the first time,” Ben teased back, a big grin on his face. 

He threw the pitch high in the air so that it would land easily in her glove. She stood underneath and the ball landed with a thud. “I caught it!”

He ran towards base and grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around before lowering her into his hold. “Well done my apprentice,” and lowered his head to give her a kiss. Her mouth opened in invitation, and their tongues participated in a duel of destiny. 

When they finally broke off, panting, A look of anticipation crossed their faces at at the prospect of second base. 

Rey grabbed her glove from the ground and dashed to second base. Ben watched her ass shift side-to-side as she sashayed, then wiped his face with his hand. His member stirred. 

“I think it’s time I explore and exploit your weakness” he yelled from the mound.

“Give it to me, big boy!!” 

“Be careful what you wish for, Sweetheart.”

He threw a curve fall, slow at first until it sped up at the end as it curled inside towards her.

She caught the ball, but she rocked back at bit at the impact. “See, I can take what you give me.”

“We’ll see,” he said with a grin as he slowly sauntered his way to second base, licking his plush lips in anticipation. He pulled her into his embraces and kissed her gently, his other hand sliding up her cropped shirt, gently grazing the underside of her breast. _ Yep. No bra! _

She shuddered under his caress, and she groaned a small whimper of pleasure.

His long fingers grazed across her nipple, and she moaned in his mouth. 

“Perfection,” he whispered against her lips. 

She pushed him back so she could lift the shirt over her head. He knelt before her, breathless, before grabbing her waist to pull her towards him. 

Her head lolled back as he took her breast into his mouth, his tongue flickering over her sensitive nipples.

He pulled away, grabbing her shirt and tucking it partially into his back pocket before running back to the base.

“That’s not fair!” Rey yelled as she flounced towards third base. Ben’s jeans felt tighter and tighter as her tits bounced up and down. 

“All’s fair in love and war!”

“Bring it!” She challenged him.

Ben smirked. “I’m going to go hard and fast. Do you think you can handle it?” 

“I’m wide open and can take a pounding, big boy.”

Ben groaned so loudly that Rey broke out in laughter.

He threw her a fastball. To his surprise, she caught it with ease. Tossing him a smile, she yelled out, “I used to play baseball on the orphanage. Get over here, big boy!”

He didn’t hesitate, running across to her, their lips frantically clashing, teeth knocking against teeth, as his hands reached for her jeans buttons. His hand slipped into her underwear, his fingers eagerly seeking her folds. To his surprise, she was already wet and he easily slipped one finger inside. 

She moaned eagerly, holding his shoulders as a brace. “Harder...faster…!”

He complied, adding a second finger, stroking eagerly until she came on his hands, tilting her head back in a gutter all moan. 

He brought his fingers to his lips, licking her juices, watching her as she came down from her high in his arms. They stood like that for a few minutes until her breath steadied. 

He leaned to whisper in her ear. “That was incredible. You are so beautiful, you know that? Coming in my hands like a good girl.”

Rey planted one last kiss on his lips, before turning to head to home base. She turned to look back over her shoulders.

“I think it’s time for you to do what you do best: close the game.”

Ben eagerly headed to the mound, the baseball in his hand. He looked at Rey, standing at home plate, half-naked, the light of the park shining on her beautiful body. Her hair was disheveled, her lips plump from the kiss.

He realized in that moment that she was his pennant, his World Series trophy, and the best gift he’s ever received. Standing on the mound, he didn’t feel lonely anymore. 

He lifted his leg, swung his body, and tossed her the ball. She caught it easily, and Ben went to close the game. 

“You, big boy, are wearing entirely too much clothing,” she said as he approached. They quickly shed out of their clothing and stared at each other, vulnerable and naked.

“I don’t have protection, but I know I’m clean. I passed the team physical when I started the season, and I’ve had no partners since.”

“I have an Implant, and I’m clean since my last test too.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I consent...100%”

“I...I maybe, hypothetically, and possibly love you.”

“I maybe, hypothetically, and possibly love you back. Now shut up and drive it home.”

He reached for her and lifted her up so that she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Standing up?” She asked, one eyebrow raised. “That’s a new one.”

“There’s too much sand,” he mumbled against her mouth as his tongue sought refuge. “It’s annoying. It gets everywhere.”

The kissed until she was breathless until, with a nod of her head, he entered her, sliding himself into her. She rode him hard, his balls slapping against her, until they both succumbed to the release. 

He held her like that for a while until he slid out of her, his spend dripping down her leg.

“Well, that was a helluva game,” he said with a grin.“Do you want to come back to my place?”

“I would love to Ben,” she replied, planting his lips with a kiss. “Besides, have you ever played the game of mattress wrestling?” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Baseball metaphors for sex are often used as euphemisms for the degree of physical intimacy achieved in sexual encounters or relationships. In the metaphor, first prevalent in the aftermath of World War II, sexual activities are described as if they are actions in a game of baseball.
> 
> Here is the reader's digest version of the baseball metaphors for sex! (Note that other people might have different meanings, but these are the most common meanings).
> 
> First base: kissing, particularly french kissing. 
> 
> Second base: skin-to-skin touching/kissing of the breasts; touching of erogenous zones through the clothes.
> 
> Third base: touching below the waist, without sexual intercourse; manual stimulation of the genitals.
> 
> Home base/home run: full (penetrative) intercourse.


End file.
